


tempest in a teacup (don’t wake the sleeping ones)

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [188]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Eldritch Abomination, Gen, Magic, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things were not meant to be caged.  (<i>oh</i>, she thinks, <i>oh, you clever little things</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: tempest in a teacup (don’t wake the sleeping ones)  
> Original, gen, PG  
> 515 words  
> Prompt: Any, any, not a bird in a cage

There are some beasts so big no cage in the world could contain them. They shrug their shoulders and mountains quake; they yawn and hurricanes swirl in the ocean. They sleep and countries form on their spines. 

The Great Ones wake and the world shudders; the Great Ones stretch and the world crumbles. 

.

She blinks; her arms ( _arms?_ ) are chained to each other at the ( _wrists?_ ), her legs at the ankles ( _what words are these, what language? how does she know it -- how does she **know**?_ ), and there are men glaring at her over the mouths of weapons she has never seen before. 

"Who are you?" one of them demands. 

How long has she slept? How did she come to be in this body? 

She blinks at the shackles, at the man who demands an answer, and then she _reaches – oh_ , she thinks, _oh, you clever little things_. 

She laughs. 

.

Magick is a powerful, if wielded correctly. It is deadly if wielded wrong. Once, there was a sorcerer who strained for magick out of his grasp: the magick of stars and planets, of the dark fathoms of space. He prayed to the Great Ones for aid in his quest to rein in the greatest of magicks; he prayed, and something answered. 

Every being in every realm in every world has a natural enemy of some sort. The Great Ones are not above the law of nature. 

It was their enemy who answered the sorcerer, and so the Great Ones came to be chained. The sorcerer thought to use magick, but only _magic_ answered his summons. 

.

They are scattered over the worlds, separated for the first time since they slept. Everything is out of balance; they should not be awake yet, not for long millennia. She should still be spread out with the ( _Alps_ ) along her back. 

But here she is, locked away in a dark room, angry little things demanding to know how she appeared in their inner sanctum. Her family are in similar places: in trouble with those in command. Such is the magick of hatred. Such is the power of revenge. 

She does not answer, of course, shackled hand and foot, hungry and hurt. 

Their enemy believes them to be powerless in these weak forms. The Enemy believes them to be easy prey. 

Some things were not meant to be caged. Some things cannot be contained. She is a Great One no matter her form. She inhales and the temperature drops; she exhales and the bindings on her body shatter. 

She rises to her ( _feet_ ) and whirlwinds fill the air. 

.

There are certain lines not meant to be crossed by mere sorcerers. _Magic_ , to leash the ancients? Oh, there is a laugh to shake the cosmos. 

She steps into sunlight, _reaching_ again – a sister to the east, and a brother to the north… the only ones here on this tiny little planet. 

They should not be awake. They are, nonetheless. She laughs, stretching her weak body just to feel the tremor all the way into the core of the earth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Any, any, eldritch abomination in disguise

He turns to watch her come, sunlight glinting off her hair. Her smile is wide, and his smile widens to meet it. “Whatever shall we do?” he asks, reaching a hand toward her. 

It is quite odd, having hands. New. Exciting. He flexes his fingers, trailing one tip along her wrist. She shivers at the sensation. 

“We are awake,” she says, caressing his skin. “Brother, we are _awake_.” She laughs in delight, and his smile widens even more at the sound. 

They turn to watch their sister crest the hill. She laughs and runs toward them; the ground trembles beneath her feet, and they run to meet her, hands still joined. The earth behind them cracks open and they run faster, laughing.


End file.
